


LA Devotee

by imusuallyobsessed



Series: LA Devotee [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Actor AU, Alternate Universe - Actors, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, all implied things happened in the past, none happen in this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 21:44:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imusuallyobsessed/pseuds/imusuallyobsessed
Summary: Just another LA Devotee.





	LA Devotee

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost I would like to thank Brendon Urie of Panic! At the Disco for writing a song I literally listen to constantly, and kept on repeat while writing this. LA Devotee is one of the most beautiful, atmospheric, rich songs I’ve heard in a long time and this story wouldn’t exist without it.
> 
> I was also very inspired by the Time's Up movement, which you'll see in this story. There are mentions of sexual assault, but nothing ever happens "on screen" and it's not discussed in any graphic length! There's also mentions of alcoholism and drug abuse.
> 
> I’d like to thank felicityollies, acheaptrickandacheesyoneline, and emmilynestill on Tumblr for helping me panic-name the movie. (props to felicityollies for the name I chose, though!)
> 
> WARNINGS: I did not beta this ONCE! This is literally first draft insanity. I just don't have the patience to read it. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> If you want to feel my vibe, listen to “La Devotee” by P!ATD while reading.

 

 _You got two black eyes from loving too hard_  
_And a black car that matches your blackest soul_  
_I wouldn't change ya, oh_ _  
Wouldn't ever try to make you leave, no_

 

Oliver was beginning to regret coming back.

 

Hollywood was making a killing off his return. _Playboy Actor Ollie Queen Returns! 5 Years Away—Ollie Queen Still Smokin’!_

 

The headlines made him roll his eyes. Each more ridiculous than the last. But his little sister was starting a career as an agent in LA, and he’d be damned if he left her to the wolves. So, he’d packed up his self-imposed exile and returned to the City of Angels.

 

Everyone was sure he’d returned to act. But he had no intention of being back on the other side of the camera. That life had almost taken everything from him. He was just thankful Speedy and Tommy hadn’t abandoned him—even after all the times he’d called them to peel his cross-faded ass off the floor of some club.

 

But no more. Six months of rehab, followed by four-and-a-half years almost alone, had cured him of any love for the limelight.

 

And yet, this party.

 

Tommy—technically still Oliver’s agent, and a big-wig in the talent company Thea was interning for—had begged and begged him to come until Oliver was so annoyed at hearing his best friend’s voice that he relented. But he’d regretted it almost as soon as he entered Tommy’s house.

 

Tommy Merlyn was a big name in talent. And his house in Malibu—one of two, the other being an expensive condo in the city—showed it. All steel, glass and chrome, with slick, modern lines and a huge outdoor space that overlooked the ocean. It was like Tony Stark’s mansion mashed up with Jay Gatsby’s.

 

Five years ago, he wouldn’t have been able to make that comparison. But he’d read almost ceaselessly during his self-imposed exile. There was barely any television or cell phone service where he’d been, and he found he _loved_ it. He didn’t even miss watching movies.

 

Five Oscars. Five Golden Globes. Five Critics' Choice Awards. Five SAG Awards. And so many more. Those things had meant everything to him before—to the young, feckless Ollie Queen he’d been at twenty-four. But now he was twenty-nine, turning the big 3-0 next year, and all he could feel was relief he’d missed those things. And desire to miss all of them for the rest of his life.

But he should’ve known. He’d only been back in town for a week, and already Tommy was drawing him out. He was Oliver’s best friend, but Oliver saw the great metaphor. This city wasn’t going to let him go so easily.

 

“You could at least _try_ to look happy,” Thea teased, coming up behind him with a glass in each hand. Oliver glared sharply at the glasses and she rolled her eyes. “Seltzer with lemon, brother mine. Relax.”

 

Thea Queen, a veritable talent-sniffing prodigy, was the type of person who’d be on those lists like _10 Most Influential People You’ve Never Heard Of_ or _It People to Know If You Want To Know Anyone_. Or something equally ridiculous but true. She’d graduated from UCLA several months ago in May with a double major in business and marketing, and a minor in film. She was bold, indomitable, and fearless. Her newly-shorn hair—a graduated gift to herself, she told him when he first saw it when he came down for her graduation—was sleek and straight for the industry event. She was wearing a conservative (for his sister) black dress that still oozed elegance.

 

She was also the reason Oliver was here. Not just at the party, but back in LA. When Oliver had returned to the city for her graduation, she’d started talking about how much she missed him. Both their parents were dead, and they were almost all the other had left.

 

So, he’d come back. It was July, the ocean wind making the sweltering heat barely tolerable despite the fact that it was evening, and he was standing in Tommy’s backyard. His linen shirt and blazer were sticking to him, and he wanted to claw his jeans and boots off.

 

But being naked at an industry party wasn’t even something Ollie would’ve done. Let alone who he was now.

 

“I’m twenty-two, you know,” Thea mentioned as she took a sip of her drink.

 

“I do, Speedy,” he murmured. “But with dad and me—”

 

Thea sighed, leaning closer to Oliver on instinct and wrapping her free arm around herself. “Addiction runs in families. I know.”

 

Oliver put his hand on his sister’s shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze. Alcohol had been his father’s poison. Drugs, his.

 

“So,” Oliver said with forced levity, bringing his hand back to his side while trying to lighten the mood. “Where’s this amazing actress you found?”

 

That’s why everyone was having a party tonight. In her last semester at UCLA, Thea had to take a few core credits to graduate. Math was kicking her ass, and she had to get a tutor to keep her GPA and graduate with honors (his heart still swelled with pride in his baby sister). She had a feeling about her tutor, a twenty-six year old researcher, and somehow managed to get her on film doing a few script reads.

 

That woman landed a role as the lead in a huge superhero blockbuster movie, slated to come out in a few weeks.

 

“She’s coming soon! Technically, she was supposed to be here already, but you know actors—”

 

Just then, the sound of a roaring engine ripped through the party, drawing everyone’s attention and quieting the crowd. A few hundred people were there ( _“Close friends and business associates only, Ollie. I promise!”_ ), and none of them could take their eyes off the leek, vintage black car that pulled up into the driveway that ran along the side of the house, left empty for this specific purpose.

 

Loud rock music was pulsing inside, but no sooner was the sound cut than the door opened and all the air left Oliver’s lungs.

 

Felicity Smoak was the woman of the hour. And she was _stunning_.

 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Felicity exited the car one seemingly-endless leg at a time, strappy gold heels spilling into tan skin until it was abruptly hidden behind a tight, gold mini-dress. She stood up straight, the car door blocking the body of her dress and drawing Oliver’s attention up. Long, loose golden curls spilled down her shoulders, left bare save for inch-thick straps near her neck. Her skin was flawless and her lips were cherry red. For some reason, he was desperate to see her eyes, hidden behind electric blue, circular sunglasses.

 

Still slow, like time turned to molasses, she slammed the door of her car and tossed the keys to a nearby valet. Poor kid looked just as starstruck as Oliver. Everything was perfectly executed. Effortless.

 

Out from behind the door, Oliver almost swallowed his own tongue. The dress was even shorter than he imagined, and there was a slit over her left thigh that crept even higher…

 

Oliver didn’t understand his own reaction. He knew a hundred actresses. A thousand. Even around those lauded as the most beautiful, he’d _never_ felt like this… Maybe it was his five years away?

 

Thea elbowed him and snickered. “Pick your jaw up off the floor, bro. Don’t embarrass me.”

 

Oliver jerked and time started back to normal. Felicity was elegantly swarmed as soon as she’d taken more than a few steps. People at these types of events wouldn’t be so gauche as to act like paparazzi, but everyone seemed desperate for a scrap of Felicity Smoak’s attention.

 

And she gave it graciously, working the room with an easy smile, and friendly hand. As she got closer…damn, was Oliver _nervous_ ? He hadn’t been nervous around a girl in… _ever_.

 

But she was so at ease in the world that was now so foreign to him. She spoke just as animatedly to Tommy’s biggest clients as she did to the wait staff who brought her drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Oliver knew he was talking to Speedy and carrying on a conversation, but he wouldn’t have been able to recall a moment of it later, he was so wrapped up in the woman working her way across the party.

 

It was full sunset by the time Felicity made her way to himself and Thea. The sky was yellow orange on the horizon, fading to dark navy. Fairy lights (as Thea called them) and electric torches traversed the back grounds, bathing everything in a soft glow. As she approached from the back of the yard, Felicity looked like she’d stepped right out of where the sun met the ocean, blinding and otherworldly.

 

Wow, had five years away made him a sap, too?

 

“Hi, Thea,” Felicity said, leaning forward to give the younger woman a brief, fierce hug before releasing her and stepping back to form a little triangle from their twosome. “I’m so happy you’re here. Not that Tommy isn’t great, but he’s so busy. And you know how I get around these people! They’re all so—”

 

Thea chuckled, a sweet and warm sound. “I get it, Felicity. I’m happy I came, too.”

 

Oliver was struck, again. “You didn’t seem nervous,” he commented quietly.

 

Felicity turned the full force of her attention on him, and bearing the brunt of those deep, blue eyes felt like a physical blow. They were the ocean at midnight, shining in the low lights and jumping with energy.

 

Their eyes locked, and Oliver felt something within him shift indelibly.

 

Several seconds passed and Felicity stayed silent, a slow, bright blush creeping up her cheeks as they kept looking at each other.

 

“I-I mean, thanks!” Felicity finally stammered. Oliver would’ve sworn Thea was smirking, but to confirm he would’ve had to look away from Felicity. Something he wasn’t inclined to do at the moment. “I practice. A lot. This is all so new! I was just a researcher at UCLA before this. Had to get out of Boston once I graduated MIT. And Thea was so sweet and kept on saying I was so charismatic and had I ever tried acting? Now, I just assumed she was being nice and practicing her agent skills, so I read a little to help her out. Then _Patty Jenkins_ got hold of the tape and here I am! Wow, when I lay it all out like that it really does sound crazy…”

 

Oliver couldn’t help it—he laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said between breaths. “Not laughing at you. You’re just…you have a way with words.”

 

Felicity wary expression melted into a big, bright smile. “Well, thanks. That’s the nicest way anyone’s ever put my foot-in-mouth syndrome.”

 

Oliver laughed again, and finally noticed Speedy basically gaping next to him. Come on, he laughed. Didn’t he?

 

“And what has my favorite client and best friend in stitches over here?” Tommy asked, having swooped in out of nowhere to throw one arm around Oliver and another around Felicity.

 

“I thought I was your favorite client,” Oliver said, dead-pan. Technically he was still represented by Avalon Group, but he hadn’t worked in five years.

 

“Aww, I’m your favorite client?”

 

Thea just rolled her eyes. “Sure, ignore your _sister_ over here.”

 

That told Oliver Thea and Felicity were much closer than he’d originally thought. Very few people knew Thea’s true paternity. Malcolm Merlyn was a father no one would want, and his actions had led to Tommy’s takeover of the talent agency and their rebranding from Merlyn Group to Avalon. But Thea claimed Tommy as her half-brother right in front of Felicity, and the other woman didn’t react.

 

Oliver felt a small pang of regret. He’d missed so much of Thea’s life while he was away. He’d made sure Thea hadn’t wanted for anything at UCLA and didn’t have to take out a cent in student loans, but money was easy. He hadn’t _been_ here.

 

Tommy just rolled his eyes. “I could never ignore you, Speedy,” he said. “You’re underfoot all day, now!”

 

Thea scoffed. “ _Please_. I brought you your biggest client in five years!”

 

It was true. Avalon was still a powerhouse, but Malcolm’s actions had kept new talent away. Felicity was Tommy’s first breakout star since taking over the family company.

 

Something Oliver knew his parents had wished he or Thea had done. Instead, they were a silent, though majority-controlling interest in Royal Pictures—one of the first production companies created in Hollywood, and one of the most enduringly popular. And the thing that killed his father.

 

Felicity huffed. “I’m right here, you know.”

 

Tommy tweaked her nose. Oliver felt an irrational urge to glare at his friend. He tamped it down.

 

“Don’t be like that, Smoaky. But since you are here, and Ollie’s here, I wanted to talk about that—”

 

Felicity groaned. “Come _on_ , Merlyn. Shop talk, again? Don’t you have a life?”

 

Tommy had been Oliver’s partner in crime before his five years away. Before Malcolm ruined everything. Before a lot of things. But he’d technically had an MBA, and when everything went tits up he rallied and became the driving force to change the image of his family legacy. Now he was considered an amazing CEO and wonderful boss, if a bit of a workaholic.

 

“Anyway, isn’t this my party?” Felicity continued. “At least, that’s what the invitation said. I want to talk to Thea more and get to know Ol…Oliver.”

 

Did she imagine the way her mouth caressed his name? Who was this woman, so different from the poised, elegant person who’d entered the party like she owned it. She stammered, stuttered, and blushed. She was…normal. Despite the act she’d put on earlier, it put Oliver at ease. She felt familiar.

 

Tommy groaned and lifted his arms to cross them in front of his chest. “Very well, then. I give you tonight,” he said magnanimously. “But I will talk to you about that movie! You’d both be perfect!” With that, he turned and strode away with a call of, “Oh, Emily!”

 

“Is that…” Felicity blinked several times after Tommy. “Emily Blunt?”

 

Thea nodded. “Yep. Better get used to it, baby. Awards season is coming in the spring and a superhero movie may not be nominated for many but you’re sure to get invited.”

 

Oliver had seen trailers for her movie— _Overwatch_. It was based on a popular comic book series about a hacktivist-turned-vigilante who seeks to root out corruption in the highest levels of the government.

 

“You’ll deserve them,” Oliver blurted out, uncharacteristically chatty. “But Thea’s right, superhero movies get snubbed at these things.”

 

Felicity tilted her head, her blue eyes wide. “Have you seen any of the early screenings? How do you know I’ll deserve any awards?”

 

Oliver shrugged. “I was in this business a long time.” He knew he needed to say more than that, but so long in the quiet, never having to explain himself, meant words didn’t come as easily as they used to. “There’s just something about you. You connect with everyone. Not just in the movie, but the audience. Acting is just technique. It can be taught. But that magnetism? That’s something special.”

 

Both women were silent for a moment, and Oliver started to fidget. Had he said something wrong?

 

Before he could chase those thoughts down a rabbit hole, Felicity threw her arms around him in a crushing hug. Oliver was instantly overwhelmed by her—everything about her. Her scent (ocean air with a hint of coconut, probably from sunscreen), the warm weight of her in his arms, raised to return the embrace, the feeling of her long hair sliding over his skin…

 

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me,” Felicity declared, squeezing Oliver once more before stepping back. “I mean, aside from the people paying me to do a good job. And Thea, I guess. But you just met me, so it’s a little different? Anyway, thank you. That was…it means a lot. Frack, someone’s probably gonna sell a picture of us to the paps.”

 

Thea’s green eyes looked liable to pop out of her head as she looked between the two of them. What did she see? But Oliver’s sister just grinned and shook her head. He wasn’t sure if he liked that gleam in her eyes. “Tommy’s parties are all about discretion. No paps, and anyone who sells a picture will be blacklisted. I don’t know how he finds out, but he always does…”

 

Thea trailed off, her eyes catching on someone across the party. “Oh, sorry guys! I have to go talk to this person, she’s been dodging me for days…”

 

Once the younger woman slipped away, it was just Felicity and Oliver. The sun had fully set now, and Felicity looked just as magical in the night as she had with the dying sun.

 

_Dying sun? When did I turn into a Romantic?_

 

Yeah, he’d read a _lot_ in his time away.

 

The silence between them somehow didn’t feel awkward. If anything, it pulled them closer together, drifting as if on an unseen current. Something between them drew them together, and Oliver felt an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome tug in his chest. Toward Felicity. Toward _something_.

 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Felicity asked suddenly. Her cheeks pinked almost immediately, and Oliver grinned. Somehow, he knew she hadn’t meant to blurt it out. “I mean, I know this is my party but…I’ve been here for a while.”

 

She didn’t rescind the invitation. Oliver’s smile only deepend. “I’d love to.”

 

 _Oh, the neon coast was your sign_  
_And the Midwest wind with Pisces rising_  
_I wouldn't change ya, oh_ _  
Wouldn't ever try to make you leave, no_

 

“You haven’t seen a movie in _five years_? Oh, how Ollie Queen has changed,” Felicity teased from across the diner booth.

 

Oliver grimaced at the nickname, and Felicity took notice. “Sorry. References updated, don’t call you Ollie. I prefer Oliver, anyway.”

 

 _Damn_ , but she loved to say his name.

 

They’d left her party with little fanfare. She’d honestly been impressed at his sneaking ability, and he’d just shrugged and said something vague about his “time away.” Felicity had taken Oliver to her favorite diner from her UCLA days—it was cheap, dingy, and no one knew it existed. And the staff wouldn’t sell out Felicity for a quick buck. She often lent her technical assistance to their ancient POS system, security, and more recently, WiFi. Oliver hadn’t even batted an eyelash when she pulled her 1967 black Chevy Impala (bought for obvious reasons with her first big movie paycheck) into the parking lot. It made her crush on Oliver—which had formed quickly and intensely upon meeting him—deepen all the more.

 

“I’ve changed a lot,” Oliver agreed. “Been through a lot.”

 

And it was all out there, for anyone to read. His great fall, Lucifer from Heaven, splashed across tabloid pages and the Internet forever.

 

Felicity hummed sympathetically. “I saw some of it, just from being in LA. I’d already been a researcher for a year or so, and mostly kept out of the movie stuff.”

 

They’d already gone over her history. Vegas born and raised, full ride to MIT. She’d glossed over what made her want to come back West, but even after all this time it was still hard to pretend she’d healed from Cooper. Oliver didn’t pry. She’d explained moving to LA with the majority of the truth—she wanted to be close to her mother, but not too close. Felicity loved Donna fiercely, but they operated optimally from a small distance. Now, Felicity was a top computer science researcher at UCLA, specializing in cyber terrorism and defense.

 

Or, she was. The movie thing had kind of taken over her life. Thankfully, since filming had ended, she was able to freelance for her old job. She’d found an unexpected love for acting, but she still loved her old life, too. Computer were much easier to understand than movies.

 

But as topsy-turvy as her own life, Oliver’s was crazier.

 

“Losing both your parents so close to each other. Your mom died in that horrible accident, just a few months after your father… Frack, I’m sorry. Again. I babble. I had no place—”

 

“I love your babbles,” Oliver interrupted. Felicity’s heart jerked at that word— _love_ —and she mentally told herself to calm the frack down. “And you can talk about it, it’s alright. Dad died of a heart attack from stress in his office. I’m sure being an alcoholic didn’t help, either.”

 

Felicity furrowed her brows and reached out to grasp Oliver’s hand, laying on the small table between them.

 

“I managed to get custody of Thea when our parents died. She was just a few months shy of eighteen, anyway. And I tried to…get clean when everything went down, but…”

 

Felicity nodded. “Everyone’s addicted to something. It’s hard to go back to the hurt once you learn how to tune it out.”

 

Because yes, she loved her computers. But that wasn’t the only reason she chose a job where she was mostly alone in a windowless office.

 

“Thea kinda…saved me,” Felicity stammered. Talking was easy. She could talk about nothing with anyone. But talking about things that actually mattered? That was where she faltered. “I was so set in my ways and so used to being alone…and Thea just saw so much more in me. A little bit of the person I used to be, mixed with who I am now. She convinced me to leave the Cave and actually step into the spotlight for once.” Felicity smirked. “Well, I guess more than once. Technically.”

 

Oliver grinned. She was learning that was the equivalent of a normal person’s laugh. He was so different from the loud, reckless, brash boy he’d been five years ago. The media was waiting for the playboy king to return, but the more time Felicity spent around Oliver, the more she believed that kid was long gone.

 

“Thea’s like that,” Oliver agreed. “She pushes people. Not in a bad way. At least, not most of the time. She convinced me to move back home.”

 

Felicity squeezed his hand, which she had only just realized she was still holding. “I’m happy she did.”

 

Oliver returned the gesture, gazing into her eyes. Blue drowned in blue, like the ocean sinking into itself. Felicity’s heart felt fit to burst. “Me, too.”

 

 _Static palms melt your vibe_ _  
_ _Midnight whisperings_

 

They talked for hours, and Oliver was...entranced. He let her fill the quiet when he struggled with what to say next, and she never disappointed, always saying something insightful, unexpected, or hilarious.

 

The diner was 24-hours, but an alert on Felicity’s phone jerked her out of a story about her childhood in Vegas. “Oh, frack,” she said once she got a look at the screen. “It’s…two in the morning. I have a meeting with my personal trainer in five hours! Digg’ll kill me if I’m late again!”

 

As much as Oliver didn’t want the night to end, he waved for the check. Then, the name piqued his attention. “Digg? As in John Diggle of Spartan?”

 

Felicity nodded slowly. “That’s the one. He helped train me up for _Overwatch_ and I stayed on with him.”

 

Oliver smiled. “He’s my trainer, too. Has been since I had to bulk up for _Football Hero_ was I was eighteen.”

 

Instead of the expected response about happy coincidences or, better yet, training together, Felicity…blushed. Turned absolutely beet red.

 

“Oh, hmm… Yeah, I think I remember something about that movie… It had that—”

 

Oliver smirked. “Naked hot tub sex scene? Yeah, that’s the one.”

 

Felicity went even redder, and for the first time in a long time Oliver felt the familiar tug of pure, male satisfaction. Maintaining his physique had become something to occupy his mind and time during his five years away, but he did have a certain amount of pride in what his body was capable of. And, in his humble opinion, he looked even better than he had back then.

 

“I wasn’t gonna say that!” Felicity insisted, one hand flying to her red cheek. “I mean maybe, objectively, I saw it when I was at MIT. Just because it was so popular…”

 

It hadn’t been a particularly good movie. Oliver knew why it had been popular. There were, in fact, six reasons laid out on his torso.

 

Oliver decided to save her. “It’s fine, I know my appeal.”

 

But Felicity just looked more upset. “Don’t talk down about yourself,” she insisted. “Honestly, I…well, I’ve always thought you were more talented than you let people see.”

 

Which, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t make sense. But Oliver had several things going for him. 1) he was hot. 2) he was rich. And perhaps more importantly, 3) his dad owned the biggest production company in Hollywood. He didn’t necessarily have to be the most talented to get a role.

 

Felicity continued, “I saw you in that indie movie, _Lifeboat_ , you were in—”

 

But Felicity’s insights into Oliver’s one foray into indie movies were interrupted by the waitress returning the check he’d paid. He tried to bite back the bitter disappointment.

 

“Wait, what? When did you have time to pay that? Let me Venmo you—”

 

Oliver shook his head. “My treat. It’s still your day, after all. Call it a congratulations.”

 

“Oh, well…thanks.”

 

On the street they lingered. Oliver had left his car at Tommy’s and he’d already called a Lyft to pick him up. Felicity had offered to drive him home, but his place was out of her way and she had to be up early for training with Digg.

 

Every time Oliver stopped to really look at Felicity, she only got more beautiful. From the sunet, to the night glow, to the harsh diner lights, and now under sparse streetlamps. Oliver could’ve watched her all day, like the best movie ever filmed.

 

“I want to see you again,” Oliver said, shocking himself with his own boldness. This wasn’t even like Old Ollie, who would’ve seduced Felicity, gotten her into bed, then proceeded to lose her number. This was a different kind of bold. With heart. Vulnerable. Something he wasn’t used to.

 

But Felicity’s eyes took all of him in, and it if she kept looking at him like that he’d bare his soul to her a thousand times. “I’d like that.”

 

 _The black magic of Mulholland Drive_ _  
_ _Swimming pools under desert skies_

 

“Oliver!” Felicity rushed out of Tommy’s office, two thick scripts under one arm with her bag slung across her body.

 

Why did she always insist on wearing heels? Oliver was tall and quick, his long legs eating up the ground, increasing the distance between them.

 

Well, she wore heels because of the internalized misogyny and antiquated beauty standards of Hollywood, but that was for another day.

 

“Oliver!”

 

She finally caught up to him at his car. She knew better than to think he’d have left without her, but she’d never seen him this worked up before.

 

“Oliver,” she said again, setting the script face down on the hood of his black Land Rover. The parking lot of Avalon was pretty empty, since it was only ten in the morning. Most people had gotten to work already, and no one would be out for lunch. Oliver was leaning over, both hands braced on the driver’s side door. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling under his plain white t-shirt.

 

The shirt that showed his arms in all their tensed glory, strong, long fingers morphing to ropes of muscle that disappeared under his shirt…

 

Felicity forcibly snapped herself back. This was not the time to be ogling her best friend.

 

And they were friends, for all that they’d only known each other for a couple weeks. She really should’ve been prepping for her movie’s LA premiere on Friday, but Tommy called a special meeting with her and Oliver. Which was what caused this whole mess.

 

“Didn’t you tell Tommy before moving back that you didn’t want to act anymore?” she asked, moving closer to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. He twitched, but ever-so-slightly leaned into her touch. She took that as permission to rub up and down his tense back.

 

“Of course,” Oliver ground out. “But do you think he cares? He’s turned into a parasite like the rest of the people in this city.” He banged his fist against the metal of the door, a concerning groaning coming from the frame.

 

“Hey, hey,” Felicity interrupted, slipping between Oliver and his car. Her hands slid to his face, lifting his head until she caught his eyes.

 

Sometimes, she wondered if she and Oliver were too close considering how little time they’d known each other. But they’d spent time together every day since her party, and texted constantly. Felicity had learned on set not to question her first instinct—even if it didn’t end up being correct, it led her down new pathways she might not have explored with a character or scene. She’d followed that advice with Oliver, and it served her well so far.

 

Oliver’s blue eyes were... _pained_. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

 

“Tommy is your friend first. I know I’m new to this movie world, but even I can see that. I think he’s just...worried about you. I think he isn’t sure what to make of how you are now. Even though he’s changed, too.”

 

“And what do you think?” Oliver asked into the space between them. They were on the side of a busy downtown LA road in broad daylight, but the moment felt intimate. Felicity worked past the hitch in her throat.

 

“I think you’re not the same person you were five years ago. And no one should expect you to be. But you’ve been gone for a long time. It makes sense the people you knew before might need an adjustment period.”

 

Oliver was quiet, looking at her like she was water in a desert. His eyes drifted down to her lips, and she couldn’t resist licking them, suddenly dry, before continuing, “Let’s go on a drive. Get our minds off it. Maybe we’ll read the script, maybe not. But let’s get outta here.”

 

That’s what had sparked this whole thing. Tommy wanted her and Oliver to star in a movie together, something he’d heard about from a director friend of his. Lyla Michaels-Diggle— _the_ Lyla Michaels-Diggle—wanted to make a movie for the first time in seven years, since she’d taken time off for the birth of her first child.

 

And Tommy thought she and Oliver had a shot at the two leads.

 

But Oliver had sworn, after his last movie ended with him in a hospital getting his stomach pumped and his veins shot up with naloxone to keep him from dying on the table. He blamed LA, the poisonous lifestyle he’d gotten into so young with an alcoholic father and a distant mother, all of them trapped in a vicious cycle of money, validation, and fame.

 

Oliver didn’t think he could go back. He’d told her as much one night, sipping water to her wine after a pizza binge. _That life destroyed my family, Felicity. It almost destroyed me._

 

Oliver relaxed against her, resting his head in her hands. “Alright. Let’s go.”

 

Before Felicity could think about what she was doing, she went on her toes, kissed his cheek, and danced around the car to the passenger door. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

 

And they did. They left the city far behind, not stopping until they got to Joshua Tree.

 

Oliver loved nature. It was one thing he hated about living in LA again, being so far away from natural places. He hiked, swam, kayaked, camped, and any number of other physical activities Felicity was afraid she’d have to try if they remained friends. And there were a few parks near LA—Death Valley, the Mojave National Preserve—but Joshua Tree was his favorite. And with his daredevil driving, they got there in less than two hours.

 

And once they did, Felicity had a plan. Without consulting the silent Oliver, she opened his sunroof, kicked off her shoes, and stood in her chair.

 

The wind was hot and fast, throwing Felicity’s hair back and biting at her skin and clothes. She felt Oliver’s hand grip her left calf tight, and a glance revealed large, slightly confused and mildly scared blue eyes. “What are you doing?!” he mouthed.

 

Felicity just smiled, big and bright. Oliver looked struck to the bone. He made to slow down, and Felicity shook her head, threw her arms out, and shouted, _“I’m flying!”_

 

Cheesy? Perhaps. But it caught Oliver off guard, made him laugh, and Felicity would do anything for him to keep smiling like that. The bright sun banished the darkness from his eyes, chased to the edge of the horizon under desert skies.

 

After another moment or two, arms wide to the wind, face tipped toward the sun as the strains of the blasting stereo barely reached her wind-rushed ears, Felicity flopped back down through the sunroof and grinned at Oliver. “Your turn.”

 

“Felicity.” _Frack_ , she couldn’t get over how he said her name. Did he do it on purpose, or did every female’s name naturally drip in sex off his lips? “I’m driving.”

 

Felicity shrugged. “Chinese fire drill?”

 

Oliver glanced at her for a moment before returning his eyes to the road, but Felicity saw all she’d needed. He thought she was completely bonkers. But nevertheless, he sighed, stopped, the car in the middle of the thankfully-empty road, and opened his door.

 

After running around the car—well, Felicity ran—they broke with Chinese fire drill tradition and settled in each other’s seats instead of their own. They’d barely buckled their seat belts when Felicity hit the gas and took off.

 

“Woo hoo!” she exclaimed, grinning at the power of the vehicle. Her vintage car was everything she wanted and more, but it handled differently from modern ones. It was fun to experience both.

 

Oliver had a death grip on the center console. “Damn, I forgot how much I hate riding with you,” he ground out.

 

Felicity just smiled. “I’m an excellent driver. Never been in a wreck!”

 

Which was true. But she supposed she understood his concern. She tended to be a bit scatterbrained (which was why she was a terrible cook) and she’d learned to drive from her equally spacey, if wonderful mother. Whom Oliver had never met, but had spoken to on the phone a few times. And that was enough, really, for him to understand her measure.

 

“Your turn!” she exclaimed, almost having to shout over the rushing wind from all the windows being down.

 

There was some hemming and hawing, but Felicity wouldn’t be cowed. She’d drive around Joshua Tree all day if that’s what it took. Eventually, Oliver accepted that and, with a roll of his eyes, stood out his sunroof and into the wind.

 

After a brief look, Felicity smacked his leg and extended her right arm, hoping he’d get the message. With another sigh—one she felt all the way down to his toes—he spread his arms to the wind.

 

And he was free.

 

 _Drinking white wine in the blushing light_ _  
_ _Just another LA Devotee_

 

Oliver had decided to do the movie.

 

Whether is was some insanity or the level of curiosity and understanding in Felicity’s eyes, he’d agreed. Maybe it was both. Maybe they were the same thing.

 

Staring at her sure did drive him crazy.

 

The movie was about a high-powered CEO and a computer genius who are the only two to survive a plane crash on a seemingly-deserted island actually crawling with U.S. scientists sent to the island to do horrific experiments. Except, the CEO is addicted to drugs and the computer genius is actually a government spy.

 

Oliver hated how close to home his character was, but Lyla Michaels-Diggle, wife of John Diggle and proof of how small the world was, the director, pushed him to move past that resentment and use it.

 

And it helped. Using his pain to fuel his craft, diving deeper into who he used to be and picking his past apart to examine it, helped. In a way, it felt like this made his pain and suffering worth something.

 

Felicity would hate that kind of talk. She always said pain and suffering was pain and suffering, and wasn’t on some cosmic scale of worth. Oliver didn’t know if he entirely believed her, but he loved how passionate she got about it. Her cheeks went pink, and her eyes practically glowed.

 

Damn, he was so gone on her. He was man enough to admit it.

 

But he couldn’t do anything about it. The production house would surely love it if the two stars of _Gambit_ were dating throughout filming. It was easy press, and people speculated madly about them anyway, especially since she’d asked him to accompany her and her mother to the _Overwatch_ premiere. But even the thought of it made Oliver sick, and he knew how much Felicity detested fake relationships for Hollywood.

 

And Felicity deserved more. She deserved something real. With someone whole. Not someone who was still picking up broken pieces of themself and trying to glue them back together.

 

But tomorrow… well, tomorrow was _the scene_. The first kiss of the movie. Lyla was filming the intimate moments between Duncan and Mara—their characters—in sequence. He said it was more real that way.

 

Oliver couldn’t remember how they got here, on the floor of her trailer, tipsy off a few bottles of strawberry wine, of all things. Felicity had confessed a secret love for it, and Oliver had surprised her with a case. She’d offered to share some with him. One thing led to another.

 

Well, apparently he could remember how they got there.

 

“I’m nervous for tomorrow,” Felicity blurted, then clapped a hand over her mouth. She was wearing her glasses, which Oliver adored. At UCLA she always wore them, but she confessed she’d switched to contacts since coming into the movie business.

 

Oliver had been laying in front of her crossed legs, and propped himself up on one elbow. He couldn’t help but love the way her eyes lingered on his arms. “Why?” he asked, half breathless. Why? What was he hoping she’d say? _That she feels the same way I do. She wants something more than a fake movie kiss between us_.

 

But there was no way she’d say that. He had to stop dreaming.

 

“I don’t know. It’s just…” She hiccuped, and Oliver knew she’d be embarrassed tomorrow. “In Overwatch, with Barry, it was easy.” Barry Allen, her co-star who played the starry-eyed sidekick to Felicity’s badass vigilante. They fell in love, of course, and had a dramatic kiss at the climax of the movie. “We’re friends.”

 

She and Barry were good friends. She’d brought Oliver to hang out with her new Hollywood friend group several times. Iris, a contracts lawyer and Barry’s childhood best friend. Caitlin Snow, who played a doctor on a hit medical drama. Ronnie Raymond was her husband, and a structural engineer. Oliver had gotten along with them surprisingly well. But in that moment, Oliver hated Barry a little bit.

 

“Are we not friends?” he asked, trying to hide his hurt.

 

Felicity shook her head and rushed to explain, “Of course! I mean… frack. I mean, we aren’t just friends. Frack. Did I just say that? I mean, of course we’re friends. Friendly feelings. All the friendly—”

 

Madness. Oliver must’ve gone temporarily insane, because all he could do in that moment was sit up, cup Felicity’s face, and kiss her.

 

 _Sunsets on the evil eye_ _  
_ _Invisible to the Hollywood shrine_

 

“Where ya runnin’ off to?”

 

Felicity jerked, looking up from her phone to Sara Lance’s smiling face. She was Felicity’s stunt double on _Gambit_ , and the two had become fast friends. Sara was also apparently an old friend of Oliver’s, and her sister Laurel had some tawdry part to play in his sordid past. Felicity knew the basics from tabloids, but hadn’t asked any deeper than that. Laurel was currently practicing entertainment law in New York City.

 

They hadn’t needed Sara today but set had been unnaturally crowded for her and Oliver’s first kiss scene. She couldn’t imagine why.

 

It went seamlessly. Perfectly. Like she was born to kiss him. Or their lips were made for each other.

 

Frack, she was being ridiculous. They’d kissed last night, a brief brushing of lips before Thea had called in a rush, half hysterical because she’d been in a car accident. Oliver had been out of his trailer faster than a flash of lightning. Not that she blamed him, of course. But they hadn’t had time to talk before filming today, as he’d spent the one night Thea was required to stay in the hospital with her, then taken her home.

 

And after a quick change, her day of filming done, she was leaving set. Normally, she’d wait until Oliver was done. He was filming some solo scenes inside the government base today, and she’d been wanting to see him really in action all filming.

 

But…something felt off. Or exactly right. Change was in the air like static, like the air before a storm, and Felicity was too chicken shit to be around when it broke.

 

“I’m auditioning for a guest role on a cop show. Just trying to diversify, you know. But don’t tell anyone! Don’t wanna jinx it.”

 

Sara’s pale brows furrowed and she nodded. They were standing outside the lot. In a few weeks, they’d head to location upstate to shoot the “deserted island” parts of the movie.

 

“With who?” Sara asked suddenly, her blue eyes serious. It was odd to see the usually-vivacious woman so severe.

 

“Uh…” Felicity checked her phone. “Adrian Chase.”

 

Sara went pale. “Oh, Felicity. That guy’s—”

 

“The Uber’s here!” Felicity exclaimed, only half-hearing Sara as she darted toward the blue Prius. “See ya later!”

 

“Felicity—”

 

But Felicity was already in the car with the door shut and Sara’s voice was lost.

 

 _Always on the hunt for a little more time_ _  
_ _Just another LA Devotee_

 

Oliver was brooding. That’s what Thea said, at least. She’d been pissed when she found out he’d left in the middle of kissing Felicity to come get her, but he’d just rolled his eyes. His baby sister needed his help, what was he supposed to do?

 

But they hadn’t gotten to talk today. Felicity hadn’t waited for him after she was done filming. That had been their routine since _Gambit_ started shooting.

 

Sara had been the last to see her and looked troubled, but wouldn’t say anything. Had Felicity said something? Shit, she hated him. She hadn’t wanted him to kiss her and he’d just done it without even thinking or asking. She’d never want to be around him again—

 

_Bang! Bang!_

 

The pounding on his door was barely audible over the driving rain—usually for LA but fitting to his mood. Few people showed up to his in the Hills unannounced, and they all would’ve texted first. His phone was tragically absent of notifications. But they had to have had his gate code, or they wouldn’t be at his door, they’d be buzzing his security system.

 

Oliver went to the door and peered through the peephole, only to almost rip the door off its hinges when he saw who was outside.

 

Felicity, in a cute sundress and bare feet, her strappy heels in her hands, soaked on his doorstep.

 

“Felicity! What’s wrong?” he asked, quickly ushering her inside, through his house, and to his bathroom. He didn’t have to have her IQ to know something was up. Not only was she soaked to the bone and carrying her shoes, but she had her free arm wrapped around herself and her eyes were rimmed with red.

 

He quickly catalogued her from head to toe. Her face showed signs of crying. Clothes sodden, dripping on the tile. Elbows and knees red with impact marks, sure to turn to bruises before tomorrow. And her feet.

 

“ _Dammit_ ,” he breathed, quickly picked her up around her waist and setting her on the counter. He went to his knees, fishing the first aid kit out from under the sink. “What happened to your feet?” They were bloody with cuts, gravel and dirt buried deep in some of the wounds.

 

“W-walked here,” she stammered, her teeth chattering as the chill really set in.

 

Oliver moved fast, tearing his henley off and pressing it into Felicity’s hands. “I won’t look. Take off your dress and put that on.”

 

And Oliver didn’t look. He wasn't even tempted. His entire attention was focused on her abused feet, trying to put aside his burning desire to know _what the fuck was going on_.

 

“Walked here? From where, Malibu?”

 

Felicity let out a harsh, breathy laugh, nothing at all like her usual, full-bodied expression, and Oliver focused on gentling his hands on her skin and brushing gravel out of her wounds. She twitched a few times, but he kept a firm hold on her ankle. “No,” she said, still shaking. She shouldn't still be shaking. “T-the Flats.”

 

The Flats. He lived in Trousdale Estates. Oliver had run it before but he doubted Felicity had in bare feet and a rainstorm.

 

“You’ve been walking for over an _hour_?”

 

Felicity flinched and gasped. Oliver hadn’t even been touching her foot. He released her ankle instantly, taking a deep breath and staring at her face. “I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly, softening his tone and keeping his fisted hands out of sight. “I shouldn’t have yelled. Why did you walk here from the Flats?”

 

Felicity took several deep breaths, then wiggled her foot and gestured to it. “You c-can k-keep going. Frack-k, why c-can’t I st-top st-t-uter-ring?”

 

Oliver went back to his work, running a warm washcloth over her wounded feet. He expected a flinch again, but Felicity’s labored breathing reached his ears and he looked up to find her eyes screwed shut, her face twisted.

 

Some instinct kept him on the ground, crouched at her feet. “Hey, hey, hey. Deep breaths. In for four, out for eight.”

 

After a few rounds of this, Oliver breathing with Felicity until she settled, she finally opened her eyes again. They were shining with unshed tears, so blue they broke his heart. “You don’t have to tell me but—”

 

“Adrian Chase.”

 

The name was like an atom bomb, a shock wave that sucked up all the oxygen.

 

“I was at his house for an audition for a show, which I thought was like, normal? He said he was busy with calls all day and he had a free hour? So I came, didn’t think anything of it, straight from set. Turned off my phone so I could run lines without getting distracted, you know I keep on saying I’ll turn off my push notifications but I just haven’t been able to cut the cord yet? And oh God, Sara tried to warn me, didn’t she? That’s what she was saying before I left—”

 

“Felicity.”

 

Felicity’s mouth snapped shut on a gasp, and her eyes—which had been wandering the room—returned to his.

 

They were suspended on a string, taut between them and tingling with electricity. Something was thick in the air, and Oliver needed to know what was going on or he was actually going to go insane.

 

“What happened with Adrian Chase?”

 

Oliver knew the man, of course. He was a pretty famous up-and-coming producer. Oliver had even worked with him before his five years away on a potential movie but had decided to pursue a different one. They weren’t friends but they knew who the other person was and may exchange pleasantries at industry events if they saw each other again.

 

But he put that vulnerable, wounded look on Felicity’s face. Which meant now Oliver wanted to do was greet his with a closed fist.

 

 _Calm down_ , Oliver told himself. _This isn’t about you_.

 

“We were sitting on his couch and he kept…getting closer and…I asked him to stop but…”

 

Rage ignited like wildfire. Oliver wanted to scream, roar, rage, tear down the hills of LA until he found Adrian Chase and ripped him to pieces.

 

But Felicity was shaking, coming apart at the seams. It wasn’t about what Oliver wanted. His best friend, the woman he loved, needed him. He was exactly where he was supposed to be.

 

Oliver swallowed hard and locked his jaw, taking a deep breath before asking, “Can…can I hug you, Felicity?”

 

She’s barely sobbed out a heart-wrenching _yes_ before Oliver had her wrapped in his arms, holding her tight as she sobbed against his bare skin.

 

“Felicity, I have to ask.” Felicity sniffed a few times, quieting down after several long minutes. She didn’t move from his chest, and Oliver held her closer, one hand rubbing up and down her back and the other cradling her head. “Did Adrian… What did he do? Do we need to go to the hospital? Call the police?”

 

“ _No_.” Felicity did move at that, her hands pressing against his chest to lift herself and lock their eyes. “Nothing… I don’t need a hospital. No cops. It…it wasn’t that bad.”

 

“Felicity!” Oliver said, incredulous but trying to keep his voice down as not to startle her again. “Adrian scared you and made you feel like you had to walk over an hour in a rainstorm to get away from him. You asked him to stop, and he wouldn’t. Whatever he did, it was too far.”

 

With that, the story came out. It was halting, so unlike Felicity’s stream of babbling. Oliver listened intently, finishing up bandaging her feet and carrying her to the couch—over half-hearted protests—where he bundled her up with two thick blankets and a mug of hot chocolate.

 

The audition had seemed normal at first, despite the location. Then they’d sat on the couch, and Adrian had kept touching her legs, sliding them higher, leaning to close, and talking about getting to “know each other better” before he cast her. It all came to a head when she tried to leave and he grabbed her, upsetting her balance so she fell to the floor on her elbows and knees. She’d bolted after that, phone dead and purse abandoned, and walked to Oliver’s. The storm had started and her feet hurt more in her heels with every step, so she’d taken them off.

 

Oliver had sat by her side and stayed quiet, only speaking to gently prompt her or steer her back on track when her mind wandered. As she told her story, she crept closer and closer, growing more bold as Oliver only accepted her advances without question. Soon, she was half in his lap with her free hand clutched in his, as if borrowing his strength.

 

She could take whatever she wanted from him.

 

Once her story was done, the storm was still raging and it was barely eight o’clock, but Felicity’s eyes were beginning to droop. Recovering from shock required rest, and Oliver stood, gently tugging on Felicity’s limp arm. Her hand refused to release his.

 

“Come on, sleepy head,” he said when her eyes blearily opened to fix on his face. “You should get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

 

“Right… right.” Felicity rubbed her eyes with her now-free hand—the empty mug safely on an end table—and slowly lurched to her feet. “Can I call a cab or something? And borrow some money? My bag—”

 

Oliver shook his head and gently guided Felicity down the hall with a hand at her back. “Absolutely not. You’re staying here tonight.”

 

“I swear, I’m fine, Oliver—”

 

“Even if that were true, what would my mother think if I turned out a guest on a night like this?” He shook his head and tsked his tongue, imagining his mother’s face now. “Hospitality is a virtue the Queens do exceptionally well.”

 

That avenue made Felicity more comfortable accepting his offer, and she bedded down in his guest room and was out like a light in minutes. She’d barely been able to stay awake to scrub her makeup off and put on a pair of his sweatpants.

 

Oliver turned to leave, and felt a familiar hand grasp his wrist.

 

“Stay,” Felicity murmured, barely awake.

 

Oliver looked over his shoulder, the glow of the distant LA lights illuminating Felicity’s face.

 

He could protest. Maybe he should, since he knew he wouldn’t find sleep anytime soon. But when Felicity asked, there was nothing he could do but exactly as she asked.

 

He toes off his shoes and slid into bed next to her. Felicity succumbed to sleep almost as soon as she wrapped his arm around her waist.

 

For Oliver, sleep was a long time coming.

 

 _You got bleached out eyes from the valley sand_  
_And a black tar palms keep weeping your name_  
_I couldn't change ya, oh_ _  
Couldn't ever try to make you see, no_

 

“ _O Canada!_ ” Felicity and Sara sang quite loudly, their voices echoing across the wide lake that would be CGI’d into the ocean in post production.

 

The core cast of _Gambit_ were nearing the end of their shooting in Vancouver, and decided to take an evening to themselves and picnic by the lake. Their more sturdy loding was in the city, but they’d decided to stay in their trailers for their first evening in what felt like forever without night shoots.

 

Oliver, his stunt double (hilariously named Jonas), Roy Harper (who played a government scientist who has a change of heart and helps the heroes), Digg (who's been brought in to coordinate stunts), Lyla, and Slade Wilson, the head scientist and main villain of the movie, were about twenty feet away arguing over the grill. The Aussie was manning the spatula for now, but Roy and Oliver appeared to have teamed up against his technique. Digg appeared to be referee.

 

“Hey,” Sara said, her emotions moving with the switftness of the tipsy. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything about Chase. Before. I tried, but—”

 

Felicity was already shaking her head. She’d been pretty down after everything that happened with Adrian Chase, but leaving LA behind for Vancouver had helped. She got the time and space to heal, and was constantly surrounded by friends. Oliver was ceaselessly wonderful, and she’d told Sara just a few days after arriving in Canada because her new friend could tell something was wrong after she got a package. (It had been Adrian, mailing her purse and its contents to the movie set). That’s when Felicity had learned Adrian had done the same thing to Sara, when she was still new to the industry. She’d never said anything, because of the potential impact on her career.

 

“There’s nothing to forgive. We’ve been over this. You tried, I didn’t listen. I’m not…used to this whole whisper network thing.”

 

Sara scoffed. “ _Whisper network_. Fat lot of good that does anyone.”

 

Felicity just hummed, taking another sip of her rosé cider (best invention ever). She’d been thinking about that, almost as soon as they set foot in Canada. She had some ideas for when she got back to LA…

 

“...never seen Ollie like this before.”

 

“Hmm?” The sound of Oliver’s name pulled Sara out of her reverie. It was only then she noticed that, while she’d been spaced out, she’d definitely been staring at the group around the barbecue. At Oliver.

 

Sara smirked. “He’s looked over here about fifty times in half an hour. If you’re smiling, he smiles. If you look serious, he gets all frowny.”

 

Felicity shook her head. She couldn’t deny there was something between her and Oliver but…they were just friends. Yeah, she’d basically started staying with him in the wake of everything with Adrian (they were staying in a two-bedroom apartment together in Vancouver), but he was just being a…friend.

 

(Ignoring the fact that Felicity definitely had stronger feelings for him than that.)

 

If he wasn’t just a friend, why hadn’t he made a move yet?

 

Later that night, Felicity had an arm slung around an annoyingly-sturdy Oliver as he helped her along the uneven forest floor toward their trailers. Felicity had stayed back to help Oliver clean, despite his protests, and now she was exhausted and still a bit tipsy. Oliver, on the other hand, had drunk more than her and was perfectly steady. He would’ve carried her if she’d allowed, but she had _some_ dignity left.

 

“What that about ‘ _stupid biology_?’” he asked, a smile in his voice.

 

Felicity groaned. “ _Nothing_.”

 

They stumbled inside Felicity’s trailer, where they’d decided to stay the night. Oliver deposited her on the bed and started shuffling around, probably trying to bide his time until he insisted he’d take her pullout couch and they had a brief exchange of words over bed sharing while intoxicated.

 

(Felicity was entirely fine with it. She’d said as much, many times, both drunk and entirely sober. Oliver usually was as well, but sometimes he got weird and she wouldn’t push him.)

 

Surely someone who liked her wouldn’t do that. Right?

 

Realization crashed in—Oliver was _right there_. She didn’t have to wonder anymore.

 

“Do you like me?” she blurted, brows furrowed.

 

Oliver jerked like he’d been stung and looked over his shoulder. Wide blue eyes, glowing in the dim light of her fake candles (real ones were a fire hazard), watched her for long seconds until he forcibly relaxed. Somehow, Felicity could tell the difference when it was forced.

 

“Of course, I like you. We’re friends.”

 

Felicity was already shaking her head. She was up and halfway across the trailer before she could stop herself. “Not like that. You know what I mean.”

 

Oliver’s eyes jerked around the cottage. “I mean… you’re drunk, Felicity. We shouldn’t talk about this when—”

 

“Are you trying to let me down easy?”

 

“ _No_ , no, but—”

 

Felicity crossed the rest of the trailer and stepped into Oliver’s space, their bodies pressed firm against each other, blue eyes drowning in blue. Oliver was breathing hard, but he didn’t look apprehensive anymore. He looked _ready_.

 

“Kiss me, then,” Felicity murmured.

 

And he did. Oh, he did.

 

 _The high rise lights read your rights_  
_And a downtown storm with Aries rising_  
_I couldn't change ya, oh_ _  
Couldn't ever try to make you see, no_

 

Oliver had only known Felicity for a few months, but their lives blended together seamlessly once they got back to LA.

 

They hadn’t moved in with each other immediately, but being apart felt like going backwards after staying together in Vancouver. Felicity was still in her small apartment she’d lived in while at UCLA, so she’d broken her lease and moved everything to Oliver’s.

 

And everything was perfect. Her shoes leading a trail to the bedroom because she was half lazy and half absent minded, usually kicking them off while telling Oliver about her day or clicking away on her phone with industry people or her co-workers from UCLA. She always used his big towel to dry herself off after a shower, which meant it was always wet when he wanted to use it. Her hair was just…everywhere.

 

And Oliver loved every second.

 

(He wasn’t perfect, either. He constantly bickered with Felicity about her eating habits. He left his workout gear everywhere because he wasn’t used to living with someone. He had an exacting WWE-watching ritual she suffered with patient amusement.)

 

The press devoured it, of course. There was a half-and-half split between people hailing them as “The Most Romantic Love Story of the Decade” and people saying it’s all a publicity stunt.

 

Some people say worse things. Oliver caught Felicity obsessing over a disgustingly large contingent of people calling her a gold digger, a star fucker, and plenty of names worse than that. As if she wasn’t independently successful, both in the movie world and out.

 

(He’d distracted her with their favorite pastime—being naked together.)

 

And in all their time together, doing promo for _Gambit_ , exploring other projects, Felicity was planning.

 

Oliver had always loved Felicity’s mind. Almost since before he even met her, when Thea would sing her praises. Sometimes he caught her coding for UCLA research late into the night, and just watched her fingers fly over the keys while her eyes tracked the little, incomprehensible lines. Watching her in her element was like a fairy tale come to life, at once mythical and strange, yet comfortable and safe.

 

But this was a different side of his girlfriend. She and Sara had apparently got to talking in Vancouver about what went down with Adrian Chase (Oliver still had to clench his jaw every time he heard the name) and had decided to do something about it.

 

 _“I don’t want to talk about it yet,”_ she’d said when he asked why their home was becoming host to hushed, late-night phone calls, as if the speakers were afraid their words would escape from the cracks between walls. _“It’s still so new and fragile. Can you wait?”_

 

Of course. Oliver would wait for whatever Felicity wanted, however long she wanted.

 

And eventually, she told him.

 

Felicity was still relatively new to the movie industry, so with the help of Sara, Lyla, Thea, and as many other women as she could get in touch with, she began to build a network. Almost all the women, even if they weren’t victims of Adrian Chase, had encountered something similar to what Felicity went through.

 

Even Thea, which made Oliver see red.

 

And they made a plan. If the world was going to attack them, they were going to fight back.

 

_FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE_

 

**_HOLLYWOOD STARS FORM GROUP TO HELP VICTIMS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT_ **

 

_Los Angeles - A coalition of Hollywood stars announced today the creation of Helix, a group designed to help victims of sexual assault._

 

_Helix will help provide legal aid, medical care, victims advocacy, and much more for those who have experience sexual assault._

 

_Felicity Smoak, actor and credited founder of Helix, said, “After my assault several months ago at the hands of Adrian Chase, I started talking to my friends. And I learned the kind of world I joined was one where women were powerless and silent. But it doesn’t have to be. It shouldn’t be, not anymore. We’re calling everyone out. Everyone who thinks they can take advantage of someone just because they have more power. Your time is up.”_

 

 _Static palms melt your vibe_ _  
_ _Midnight whisperings_

 

“Felicity, your boyfriend’s here!”

 

Felicity’s head jerked up from where she’d been embroiled in her coding. Alena, her sort-of-PA, sort-of unofficial runner of Helix, was half-in the frosted glass door of Felicity’s tiny office space.

 

Felicity didn’t get to spend as much time at Helix as she wanted, so whenever she arrived she just took a small, communal office space to get some work done. Like now, she was working on a software to protect photos from hackers.

 

“Thanks, Alena,” she said, quickly shutting her small, thin laptop and chucking it into her oversized bag.

 

“Off to lunch?” Alena asked, her eyes tripping over Felicity’s preparations to leave. It didn’t happen all the time, but Oliver’s face was definitely a well-known one at Helix. And not just because of his movies.

 

Felicity breezed out of her tiny office into the bright, open space of Helix. The main space was dominated by a small army of women and a few men at open-seating desks and benches, bean bag chairs, and more. A few waved when Felicity came out, then went back to their work. The star power thing had worn off pretty quickly, even though a few of them still had to control their swoons when Oliver came.

 

Felicity didn’t blame them. Even after knowing him for a year, Felicity was still struck by him.

 

He stood amidst the desks and potted plants, looking just the tiniest bit awkward like he always did when he showed up at the Helix offices. _“I don’t want to intrude on your thing,”_ he said. _“People shouldn’t be paying attention to me.”_

 

Yeah, Oliver was pretty swoon-worthy.

 

“Hey, hon,” Oliver said, dropping a quick kiss on her lips when she reached his side.

 

Felicity gave herself a moment to enjoy the toe-curling-ness of it all before Oliver was gently steering her out the door. Sure, she had a tendency to go back for “one more thing” when they were trying to leave, but she wasn’t that bad…was she?

 

“Bye, guys!” she called, grinning at the chorus of “bye’s” that followed her out the door.

 

They entered the parking lot and Felicity twined her hand around his, titling her face into the warm LA sun. “What’s the rush, handsome?” she asked, grinning over at Oliver. “You know I can take however long a lunch I want? I don’t technically run anything at Helix and I’m on my own time—”

 

“You’re not going back to Helix today.”

 

“—and so everyone is usually… wait, what? What do you mean?”

 

Felicity stopped in the parking lot, just a few feet from Oliver’s car. Though he was much physically stronger than her, Oliver allowed himself to be tugged back so Felicity could grasp both his hands. “What do you mean? I have meetings, Alena—”

 

“Alena helped me plan this,” Oliver said with a smile, dropping another kiss on to her lips. “We both think you’ve been running yourself ragged. She handled everything with Helix. My job is to get you out of town for a long weekend of rest and relaxation.”

 

Felicity scowled, but it was more playful than anything else. “I’m being managed,” she declared. “You know I hate being managed.”

 

Oliver shook his head and bent down for a longer kiss, coaxing her mouth open and twining their tongues together in broad daylight, where anyone could see. Thankfully, they got over being caught a long time ago.

 

“I’m not managing you,” Oliver murmured against her lips, then rested his forehead on hers. “I’m taking care of you. Take the weekend, it’s already Thursday afternoon. A few days at Joshua Tree, and you’ll feel good as new.”

 

Felicity couldn’t stop a grin. She dropped his hands and they settled on her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Joshua Tree?” It was their place. Ever since that first time, a few weeks into their friendship. They went whenever they had enough time. Which wasn’t nearly as often as either of them liked.

 

He nodded, their noses rubbing together.

 

“Well, how can I say no to that?” she asked. “Lead the way.”

 

They drove leisurely to Joshua Tree, enjoying the trip as surely as they would the destination. They’d been considering getting a dog, and pros and cons, breeds, and other chatter filled the quiet.

 

By the time they arrived at the nature preserve, Felicity felt her tension had dropped at least by half. She had been working hard lately, but she didn’t realize what an effect it’d had.

 

The camping thing was a compromise. Felicity consented to spend nights in the middle of nowhere (Oliver argued that Joshua Tree was hardly the middle of nowhere, but he’d be happy to camp on a deserted island so his opinion didn’t count) if they could stay at the campground that actually had running water—Black Rock Campground.

 

They arrived as evening began to approach, the sun dipping closer and closer to the horizon. They were the only ones there, and Oliver made quick work of establishing their campsite. Felicity offered to help, but he gave her a hard look that had her sitting on a bench, organizing supplies.

 

Set fire to the tent _one_ time…

 

Once everything was set up and Felicity had their supplied organized to her satisfaction (Oliver was only a little hopeless) Oliver led her over to the fire he’d gotten merrily burning and they sat next to each other on a log to watch the sunset.

 

After several minutes of sitting quietly, content in each other’s presence, Felicity sighed and leaned against Oliver. “Thank you,” she murmured.

 

Oliver wrapped an arm around her—it was Southern California, but the desert got chilly at night—and dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that. What did you say?”

 

Felicity playfully smacked his thigh, both of them shaking with laughter. “You heard me. And yeah, maybe I have been running myself a little too hard. It’s just… I feel like there’s so much more I could be doing.”

 

“You can do anything you put your mind to, Felicity,” Oliver said. It should’ve sounded like a platitude, like something anyone would say, but coming from Oliver, she knew he meant it.

 

“With you, at least,” Felicity said with a smile, cuddling deeper into Oliver’s chest. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to keep myself afloat trying to do all this without your help.”

 

It was the truth. When Felicity worked late, Oliver would come pick her up so she didn’t have to drive and make sure she ate. He cleaned the house when she was on press tours and at Helix. She returned the favor, giving him massages when he was busting his ass to train for a movie or magazine cover, suffered through all his health phases with only minimal complaining. They took care of each other.

 

Oliver let out an awkward little cough and shuffled on the log. “You know, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself without you, either. Since I got back from my time away, you were the first person I really saw as…a person. And every day, I just fall even more in love with you. Your intelligence, your kindness, your compassion—”

 

“I’m usually the one talking in sentence fragments,” Felicity teased, sliding her eyes from the sky to Oliver’s face.

 

Oliver huffed a laugh, something about him still tense. “I guess, what I’m trying to say it…” He brought his other hand, the one not wrapped around her, into view. “You never have to do this alone. Ever again. If you don’t want.”

 

Felicity’s brows furrowed, and she looked down at his hand.

 

In it sat an open velvet box, navy satin cupping a gorgeous diamond ring.

 

“Oliver—”

 

“I know it’s sudden. We’ve only known each other for like a year, and—”

 

“ _Oliver—_ ”

 

“You don’t have to say yes now. Or ever! We can table this and talk about it in a few months, or years, or never—”

 

“Oliver!”

 

That finally shut him up, and Felicity scooted away and straddled the log so she faced him. Without saying a word, she gripped his face and kissed him with everything she had. All her love, desire, and longing.

 

When she backed up, she held out her left hand and grinned. “Yes, you idiot. Of course, yes. Now get that ring on my finger before I have to do it myself.”

 

_Just another LA Devotee_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for coming on this ride with me! I had so much fun writing this. However, if you’d like to read more in this universe, I’d be open to prompts. I know there’s a lot I didn’t discuss… Oliver, Felicity and Donna at the movie premiere, Oliver’s drug problems and his time away, Olicity living together in Vancouver, their first time, moving in together, filming stuff, hanging out with Digg, Tommy, Sara… Let me know what you’d want to see!


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